I found this writing in an old journal, and this experience made such a lasting impression on me, that I felt compelled to share it here. From 2010:
I read a book today, a ballad with no sound, yet it resounded in me.
The Romance of Tristan and Iseult
My brother bought me the book, for at one time I had found interest — yet not satisfaction, in the movie.
The pages told of a love so pure that it transcended all time. Not a love to kill for, nor to die for, but a love to live in hopes of.
Though it tormented the souls who felt it, they cursed not their suffering — for they knew its reward.
Though each loved — and was loved; they felt most alone in one another’s absence. Even at times doubting its truth, yet they knew it so.
Their love prevailed tragically. For, sometimes the tragedy of love, supposed lost, ignites in us a flame. For all of us, who have loved and lost, know that though love is perfect, it is not painless.
Complete love, in this manner, is selfless, and rare, and may be full of pain. It may make us change to try to please others — or make us deemed “insane” for staying true to ourselves. For: ‘our madness, is a wisdom that most cannot fathom.’ That pain, can supersede pleasure. For the later is fleeting, and soon forgotten. Pain however, is long-lasting, even if just a hurtful word. Gathering ourselves and harnessing this pain to propel forward in our quest for TRANSCENDENTAL LOVE — is the briary path to bliss. It may not be the easiest course, but we find that there is a worthiness to our suffering. That the trials do not break us, but merely polish us.
“Someone I once loved gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand, this too was a gift”. Mary Oliver
Now, November 2014 — I have held to my course, stayed true to myself (though deemed insane a time or three). And it was all worth it… I would not change a thing. Those moments of pitch dark… allowed me to appreciate the light in all of it’s varying hues ever-more deeply; and I am eternally grateful for that.